lucetilogs | Balthier and the library. [open]

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Balthier and the library. [open]

Who: Balthier and anyone wishing to join in.
What: Off to the library, to find information on the Filial.
When: Now.
Where: Library.
Summary: Unable to stay "home" any longer, Balthier decides to search for information on his new surroundings.
Rating: G

Balthier stepped into the dark, chilly library, pulling off his new cloak to shake the rain out. Outside, the rain poured with the same ferocity it had displayed all day, and the humidity gave the library's interior an almost frigid edge.

"It was warmer at home," Balthier grumbled as he hung his cloak on a peg to dry. He fumbled in the darkness for a small box of matches he'd coaxed from one of the shopkeepers, pleasantly surprised to see that he'd indeed managed to keep them safe from the rain. The best luck I've had since I got here.

Lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the room through the dirty windows. Balthier started, positive that he'd seen someone else in the building. When it struck again, however, there was no one there.

Not even twenty and five, and already going mad. He sighed unhappily as brought out the candles, careful not to waste matches as he lit a few -- surely, there were more, but he certainly was not naive enough to think the Malnosso willing to accommodate any of them forever.

Two candles he placed in the middle of one long reading table, and a third he left in the windowsill. It wasn't much, but he hoped that perhaps someone would see it, and join him in this lonely building.

He moved toward the nearest bookshelf, eyes straining to make out the titles on the shelves. Perhaps the fates did smile on him, a little -- the language was his own, and he would not have to seek a translator.

After selecting a book on the history of Luceti, he settled down in a stiff chair to find out what he could about this cursed land. Perhaps ... perhaps something within would be helpful in their plight.

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Ed just had to see the library when he heard about it. It took a bit of a debate, since it was raining, but the storm didn't look to be letting up anytime soon, and his curiosity was killing him. With a sigh, he grabbed a sheet, wrapping it about him as a temporary cloak, wishing to whatever deity there was -- not that he believed in them, mind -- that he had his coat.

Still, it would be warm and dry in the library, and the books would be a good enough distraction. From the rain, from the lack of his brother, and from Envy.

Balthier caught movement out of the corner of his eyes. I know I didn't imagine that.

He rose, striding towards the door, hoping that whoever was out there hadn't skulked away yet. And hopefully, whoever it was, was friendly. For all he knew, it might as well be one of the Malnosso, and he certainly didn't fancy a meeting with them.

"Bah," he grumbled as he opened the door.

To his surprise, a young boy stood outside wrapped in a sheet, looking ravaged by both wind and rain. "Belias' balls, what the bloody hell are you doing out there? Get inside before some sickness takes you."

He held open the door as it swept away whatever fragile amount of heat he'd accumulated into the frigid night air, waiting expectantly for the boy to come inside.

Always stuck babysitting, he thought, and scowled.

"Yeah, thanks." Ed blinked. Blinked again before stepping in. He certainly didn't expect anyone else in there, not in this weather, though he supposed it didn't really matter. He had come to read, after all, not to socialize.

Still, it felt awkward like that, standing there, silent. "So... ah... hi?"

Balthier raised an eyebrow questioningly as Ed floundered just inside the doorway. He felt ages older, suddenly, and absolutely exhausted as he pushed the door closed.

"Hello, boy. The name's Balthier. I hadn't time to start a fire, but from the look of you you're likely to freeze if it's not done." With that, he turned and walked back towards the table. He'd honestly not cared enough to start a fire before Ed had showed up, but it did sound like a welcome comfort, especially since the books he'd chosen had so far been unhelpful. He sighed and pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose -- he'd seen a hearth near the other end of the room, and was pleased to see it already set with kindling and thicker wood, just waiting for a spark.

Well, that he could do. He struck a match and set it to the twigs as he heard Ed shuffle around behind him, and prayed the fire would start easily.

"Edward," Ed introduced himself absently, eyes wide as he glanced at the rows and rows of books, none of which he had seen before. On a whim, he picked one off the shelves and scanned it, frowning at the script, almost familiar and somehow not. A look out the window told him that the storm was still raging; he supposed he'd have all the time in the world to figure it out.

Eying the fireplace, Ed picked a chair and sat in wait. He wondered if he should offer to help, but Balthier certainly looked like he knew what he was doing, and fire reminded him a little too much of someone he'd rather not remember.

"Well met, Edward," Balthier said as he fanned the guttering flames growing in the hearth. "Or perhaps not. I must say there's not much pleasure in finding others stuck in such a wretched position."

He rose from his crouch and paced back towards the table and his abandoned texts. The chill in the room had eased, just a little, and he welcomed the warmth as he brought his chosen book to a chair nearer the fire, across from Edward.

"It seems some of our compatriots have found some of their previous companions. Tell me, have any of your friends been granted the dubious honor of accompanying you to this foul place?"

"Nice to meet you too, Balthier. Could be worse, I guess." Ed peered at the fire, a sheepish smile on his face. At least it was warm now, and relatively dry. Almost instinctively, he clapped his hands, placing them on his shirt, a content sigh escaping his lips as some of the dampness seeped away.

Edward looked up, rubbing the spot where his automail joined his body, hoping that he could find someone with machine oil, and soon, or he'd have to worry about Winry killing him if she ever got there.

...Not that he wanted to, mind, and for multiple reasons now.

"Er, sorta." Though Envy wasn't exactly a friend. "...Well, someone I knew, anyway."

"Aye, could always be worse," Balthier murmured, his eyes moving towards the flames. "And I'm sure we'll find just how much so, before our time is come."

It was interesting to note that they boy knew at least someone here from before, though from his tone of voice, Balthier doubted it was a friend. "It seems you are slightly less fortunate than I, there. So far, no one else of Ivalice has been taken. I can only hope it stays that way, but one can never tell. It seems we've been getting new arrivals every day."

He let out an unhappy sigh and closed the book in his lap with a dull, heavy thump. More history -- fascinating, but so far useless to their immediate needs. He was simply too tired to concentrate properly on the texts, at least enough to glean any real knowledge from them.

"And what is your story," he asked suddenly, more to distract him from his current ill-humor than out of politeness. "I am -- was, I suppose -- a sky pirate, and I've already met a former summoner. I'm rather curious to learn of the talents of my fellow men -- perhaps there is some innate skill that may be of use here."

"Yeah..." Ed glanced involuntarily towards the window again, shivering. His clothes was still damp, and he frowned, half-amazed and half irritated. At least he knew that alchemy worked here, unlike that world, though he wondered if he wouldn't prefer "not working" to "only kind of working" after all.

There was a little snort. "It's not someone I thought I'd see again. Hell, or ever wanted to." And it seemed like an Envy from two years ago, too, appearing after him; he could not figure out how that worked, and it frustrated him, perhaps even more so than the presence of the homunculus himself.

A glance at his own book; Ed closed it as well, finding the conversation far more interesting. He eyed the shelves for a moment, reminding himself to pick something else once they finish talking.

"I'm an alchemist." Edward eyed the other man curiously. Sky pirate? He didn't even know what that was, had never even heard of one in all his travels. "Well, I was, anyway. Guess I'm just a scientist now. Or maybe nothing. I don't even know anymore."

Where did he fit, now, after all?

"I...see." Balthier smiled faintly, watching the boy as his eyes moved toward the shelves. "I can only imagine. Of course, by the time our days are done here, I may perhaps be that much more likely to understand."

He turned back to the fire, watching the embers drift about the hearth. "An alchemist, is it? With pistols and potionlore and the like? A place I visited once had a veritable army, but I sense that you're not cut of their cloth at all."

The smile faded from his face, slowly. "Scientists, though... one must wonders, in this place, whether they shall be the doom or fortune of us all."

"Heh." Ed echoed the smile for a moment, thoughts far away, to a place with grey skies and the smell of gunsmoke, and farther, much farther, to solace set in a green meadow. "Maybe I'll understand it myself by then."

"Er... wha?" There was a blink. Edward doubted they were thinking of the same kinds of alchemists, doubted very highly. "No, no, we're... er... well, we're scientists, I guess. We can change things. It's kinda complicated. And I was actually in the army, back in my world."

Well, his world that was no longer his; he could not return even after escaping this place. Still, it was a past that could not be erased, and he did not know whether he would have wanted to or not, even if he could.

"Who knows." Golden eyes sought the window again, and Ed gave an involuntary shudder, from cold and maybe something else. "Heh. Wouldn't be surprised if I was meant to be here. Scientists fighting scientists. Maybe it's a part of the price."

Balthier snorted. "Don't count on it."

"The army, you say? I myself wore the judicer's plate, for a time ... unfortunately, I just happened to be on the wrong side, and far too conscious of the fact."

He stared at Edward intently, watching the flames flicker in Edward's golden eyes. You've got quite the array of battle scars for a mere scientist, though." He tilted his head to the side. "Unless they were that desperate for decent soldiers."

"Heh, still can hope, right?" Edward wasn't sure what he was hoping for. Maybe it was just something to say; he couldn't tell anymore.

"Judicer's plate?" Ed blinked. Different worlds, different ranks, he supposed. "I was a State Alchemist." ...Which would mean just as much to the other man as "judicer's plate" meant to him. "It's... er... equivalent to the rank of Major, I think."

"The State Alchemists were used as human weapons." The gaze fell towards the floor, shadows dancing in the light of the flame. "Er, not that I was in the war, anyway. But a lot of things happened."

"Aye, sometimes hope is all that's left. Not that it keeps you any safer, but it's nice enough, I suppose." He shrugged.

"In Archadia, the Judges were a special branch of the army, a policing force for the populace as well as fighters in any war our lords felt we should play at. I would have been a commander, should I have stayed long enough to direct any men. I wanted no part of it; instead, I took to the skies. The most intelligent decision of my life, I'm sure."

Balthier watched Ed's mood plummet as their conversation delved deeper into the past. Personally, he was somewhat surprised he'd given up so much of his story to a relative stranger, but something about the boy moved him to speak freely.

"Either way, let us speak no longer of past battles, and think more of the inevitable battles ahead. We'll need to devise a way to defeat our most gracious hosts before too long, or we'll have naught but memories left. If they let us keep them, that is."

"It'll keep us going." Ed closed his eyes for one moment; when they opened again, they held a fierce determination. "Something to hold onto until the end."

"The skies..." A dream; that was what the skies were to Edward. A dream, and not his, one that, he supposed, he ended up fulfilling. Somehow, however, he didn't think Balthier was talking about something as... simplistic... as the rocket he had ridden in. "Heh, that's different, at least. I knew someone who was trying to get to the top of the military."

"Yeah." There was a hint of a smile at that. The future... Unlike the past, the future was something that could be changed, something within their control. "We can't afford to lose. There are people waiting for us back home."

"Let's pray it's enough, then." Balthier said quietly.

"Someone who wanted to get to the top? Whyever for?" He cringed at the very notion of it; the bother of soldiers following one around, the responsibility of an entire army and their lives in your hands ... he couldn't fathom ever wanting that sort of responsibility, and shuddered. Not that being Queen would be any easier, and Ashe certainly had enough ambition in that area...

"No, my young friend, that we cannot. One must wonder what the cost of victory shall be, and pray that the price is not too steep." He smiled and remembered Fran, wondering what she was doing at that moment. Surely, she'd noticed his absence by now? Unless, of course, time moved differently between the worlds. His return from Ivalice had passed without dent in his own time, but perhaps it was not always so -- this was definitely not Ivalice, past or future, he was sure of it.

Perhaps, when he did return (and he had no intention of not), time passed would be minimal. It was a nice enough thought.

"We alchemists don't believe in God." Softly, came the words, much more softly than he'd declared it years ago to a broken young woman. Al would pray, Ed knew. Pray enough for all of them.

"Because he's an idiot." Edward snorted. There were too many reasons, and not all of which he understood. Still, he knew he came close, no matter how much he disliked the notion of thinking like Mustang of all people. "Idiot. He... wants to protect everyone."

"Equivalent Exchange, huh." And there it was, back to haunt him. The law of the world, and not. Nothing was equal, in the end, and yet, everything. Two boys, believing in it, following it to their destruction. "I don't care what price I have to pay. I have to get back."

"Better that way, I'd suppose," Balthier said noncommittally, "I've yet to find a religion that cared half as much for its sheep as its coffers." Save, perhaps, the Kiltias...

"I'll take earthly rewards over heavenly, any day," he muttered, leaning down to toss another log on the fire. "Protecting the commonfolk, eh? There's far worse reasons than that, I suppose. Let's hope those ambitions don't turn sour." He snorted; it was a common hope, these days. He'd seen power go bad once too many to be truly comfortable around those who openly sought it.

"I suppose that's close enough to the truth of it; if you believe that sort of thing, though it seems the ones dictating the exchange rate tend to have the upper hand." Balthier fidgeted with his cuffs -- a familiar, comforting gesture -- before continuing. "We'll all pay the price, I'm certain, one way or another. Let's just hope we save enough for fare home."

His earlier tiredness had progressed into a deep exhaustion, and the rhythmic sound of the storm battering the roof didn't help things one bit. He wondered how he'd come to feel so old. He wondered if he'd ever had the determined face of the boy before him, so certain that things would turn out properly.

No, of course not. At that age, I was too busy running to believe in much of anything.

Edward grunted a reply, running a hand through his still-damp hair. Different views, but same end, and, hey, at least the other man wasn't planning on preaching.

"Yeah." Just a short answer, he knew, but there was no more he could say, nothing that someone who hasn't met Mustang would understand. He himself didn't completely, and didn't particularly care to. Still, he wondered, remembering Al's words, whether or not the Colonel succeeded, whether or not the gate between the worlds was truly closed now. Never return home, even after leaving this place, not to his true home. He supposed it'd be better just to believe. "I'll kill him myself if they do."

Not that they'd ever meet again, mind...

"A thousand lives for one..." Ed murmured, letting out a slow breath. It had been two years; he hadn't wanted to remember, but seeing Envy there reminded him. Then again, would it have been possible to forget, in the end? "A brother for a horrible parody of life. An arm for a soul existing in a living hell..."

He was sure that Balthier had no idea what he was talking about, and wondered why he said it at all. Maybe it was because of the lack of understanding, that made it so much easier to speak.

Balthier sighed. As interesting as his conversation with Edward was, tiredness had crept into his very core, his limbs and eyelids as heavy as lead. He also sensed that Edward was distracted.

There was nothing more to be done, here.

Balthier set his book on the floor, yawning. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it a night, my young friend." He stood and stretched, golden wings fluttering weakly behind him. "Thank you for the company and conversation. I hope that we meet again soon, and that our fortunes are more pleasant than I fear."

He pulled his cloak from the peg by the door, and swung it around his shoulders. "Have a pleasant -- or as pleasant as possible -- night. And stay safe. It wouldn't do to fall, so early in the game."

With that, he opened the door, staggering momentarily from the force of the wind outside. "And don't let this drizzle get you down," he called, just before he pulled the door behind him.

He was used to being alone and doing nothing, but Vincent thought it'd be nice to stretch his legs a little. Without his weapon or any means of communication to his other comrades in AVALANCHE, the boredom struck him too much. He didn't admit it, but their company was valuable to him.

The rain caught up to him, however, and he had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere before he caught something. As tough as his exterior may seem, he was still, albeit, a little human. Seeing as he was already dripping form head to toe with rain water, he sighed and walked slowly to a dark building, hearing nothing but the heavy drops of the rain and his thoughts empty, without a single thought but warmth.

Stepping inside the drafty edifice, Vincent cautiously scanned the room. Books filled every crevice, and he soon spotted two men, a short blonde boy and a familiar face. His blood colored eyes soon met with the older looking man's own, and he finally remembered. He stepped further inside and pushed his crimson cape away from his body, the moisture from the rain evident on his all leather attire.

"Balthier." he said.

"...Vincent." Balthier took a minute to register that the man before him was the one he'd conversed with earlier. "So, it seems, we finally meet in the flesh. I bid you come, share our fire and our conversation, as it seems there's scant else here to keep us company this dreary night."

The brooding man nodded slightly, surveying Balthier subtly. It was the first time they had ever meet personally, after all. He stepped closer to the flames and inhaled the warm air that surrounded it. He coughed a little when he accidentally inhaled smoke.

He didn't bother to sit down and for a minute, ignored everything else, as his eyes soon got fixed on the mountains of books in the area. He stepped away from the blazing fire and came closer to the books on the shelves. He touched the binds with his golden clawed hand and closed his eyes.

"Are you...doing research on the Malnosso?" he asked quietly, the flames of the fire reflected on his claw.

"Not really," Balthier said blandly, marveling at the shiny golden claw that seemed to have replaced his companion's arm. In the room with two somewhat mechanized people, he felt somewhat uncomfortable with his own, intact body.

He took his glasses off and tucked them into his pocket. "I was interested mainly in the history of the Filial, and anything speaking of their abilities that we may have unsuspectingly inherited, but it seems they've little to say beyond praise of their natural surroundings and family trees. An interesting read, of course, but not exactly the most helpful information."

With a sigh, he sunk deeper in his chair. "I've discovered nothing yet on the Malnosso. Either our fair village's former occupants had no written histories of them, or the Malnosso themselves destroyed those texts. Of course, I've barely touched a corner of our library, so perhaps they lie elsewhere -- I get the feeling, though, that if we want that information, we'll have to ask one of the survivors ourselves."

Vincent sighed and his clawed arm soon fell limply to his side. He closed his eyes briefly. The headache he had encountered before was coming back to him. He shook his head, gently, and faced Balthier, noticing his interested gaze at his golden hand.

"It's just a gauntlet." he said. He sounded heavier and more exhausted as usual, the storm wasn't doing much to help either. He silently asked the young man if he could sit down next to him, and he nodded back in approval. Vincent took a seat and let out a soft moan, he was so tired.

Processing the information he had heard, Vincent crossed his arms and sunk a little deeper into his cushioned chair. Malnosso...they were truly a force to be reckoned with. He noticed his breathing, and the silence that followed their conversation was a little comforting. He found that silence was always there for him, no matter where he went, and he appriciated it.

"Survivors," he finally started, breaking the awkward air around them. "How many?" he simply asked.

Balthier was embarrassed that Vincent had caught him looking -- usually, he was far more tactful, but there was something about the glittering appendage that fascinated him.

"As far as I can tell, I've only seen a few. The schoolteacher, and a small girl-child I've glimpsed on a few separate occasions."

The brooding man sat a little more upright. "I didn't know the school teacher was a survivor," he replied. It wasn't really a reply, per se, he was just talking back to himself. He closed his eyes once more and leaned on his knees, hands crossed together tightly. He still felt Balthier's eyes stealing a few glances at his clawed hand, however, but it was alright. He was used to the feeling.

"I'll help you look for information," Vincent finally said. He moved his head to the side to face Balthier, crimson eyes seemingly boring holes into Balthier's own brown ones, and added, "But I don't know how much help I can give."

"Aye; she seems to have more information than anyone else. I think a few moments with her will be more useful than reading this entire bloody library."

Balthier smiled faintly. "The help is most appreciated, no matter the measure. I can only hope your search is more fruitful than mine has been."

He nodded in his seat and proceeded to stand. Vincent scanned the room quietly, noticing how dark the library is even with the fire blazing in front of them. He looked around behind him and fortunately, found a wooden torch lying around. Vincent touched the flame with the tip of the torch and in seconds, the fire had spread to the wood just enough to use it as a light source.

"I'm not going out in the rain just yet," Vincent said. "There's something strange in this library that I just can't pinpoint." He narrowed his eyes to the silent dark around them.

Balthier blinked at the new light source, shielding his eyes from the momentary brightness.

"Is there?" He asked curiously, peering into the darkness around them. "I thought I saw someone earlier, but I thought it was a trick of the light. My partner is the one sensitive to that sort of thing. What kind of strange, if you don't mind me asking?"

Vincent nodded, without taking his eyes off the darkness surrounding the two men. He noticed Balthier's discomfort with the new light source he had just produced, so he turned it slightly away from him.

He wondered if his partner was in the strange land as well, but decided from asking. "...can't describe it too well, but it's there." he finally answered.

"Like the library is keeping something from us."

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Balthier and the library. [open]

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